Her list would ensure she found the right man—finally. She was tired of going out on useless dates. From now on, she was going to ask the correct questions, so she wouldn’t waste any more time on the wrong man. If a prospective date didn’t possess each and every one of the listed qualities, then he wasn’t the perfect man for her.
Her list wasn’t going to focus on personality traits. She already knew in her head the type of guy she wanted—warm, caring, compassionate, with a sense of humor. If he didn’t possess those basics, he’d be out of the running before they even got started. And those she could suss out right away without a list. Nor did she have a preference for looks. No, this list was compatibility based. That’s where she’d run into roadblocks in the past and where she was going to focus her efforts in the future.
She scanned her list, nodding as she ticked off the attributes in her head.
1. Never married.
2. Has to be a suit-and-tie kind of guy, because it means he cares about his appearance.
3. Has to work a 9-to-5 job, so he’ll be available for her.
4. No crazy ex-girlfriends.
5. Likes fine dining and good wine.
6. Hates sports. Everything about sports.
7. Must want at least two kids.
8. Must love animals—preferably big dogs, not those yippy little dogs.
9. Doesn’t spend all his time at the bar with his friends.
10. Idea of a perfect weekend getaway is somewhere warm and tropical. With room service.
She studied the list, tapping the pencil on the bar top.
“You look deep in thought.”
Her head shot up as Sebastian “Bash” Palmer, the owner of the bar, stood in front of her.
Talk about the wrong guy.
“I’m . . . working on something.”
He cocked a dark brow. “Yeah? I noticed you busy writing. Grocery list?”
“Funny. And no.”
He leaned over, trying to sneak a peek. “The perfect—”
She shut the notebook. “None of your business.”
He laid the rag on the bar. “Hmm. The perfect something. The perfect steak. That was it, wasn’t it? You’ve got some secret recipe for the perfect steak. That’s the way to a man’s heart, you know.”
“You think I’d be trying to capture a man by cooking. Well, you’re wrong.”
He laid his palms on the edge of the bar. “So, it does have something to do with a guy, doesn’t it?”
She refused to take the bait. “I didn’t say that.”
A couple guys came into the bar and took a seat.
“We’re not done talking about this,” he said, his stormy gray eyes making contact with hers before walking away.
Oh, they were so done talking about it.
Typical Bash, always up in her business.
And he was definitely the wrong type of man for her.
While Bash attended to his customers, she opened the notebook and checked her list.
Yes, Bash was the perfect example of the wrong type of guy. She mentally ticked off all the items on her list that he didn’t fit.
He was divorced. And he was a jeans-and-T-shirt kind of guy. And while he might look super hot in said jeans and T-shirt, it still counted against him.
She wasn’t sure he even owned a suit. As owner of the No Hope At All Bar, he worked terrible hours. As a teacher, she worked during the day, and he worked afternoons and evenings. They’d never see each other.
She had no idea who he was dating, but he was always going out with some woman or another, so he likely had some crazy ex-girlfriend somewhere in his past. She knew he was a beer-and-hard-liquor guy, and his idea of fine dining was a burger and onion rings from Bert’s. He wouldn’t know fine dining if it slapped him in the face. She had no idea how he felt about kids, but the guy lived at the bar, and he hadn’t had a serious relationship since his divorce, so it wasn’t like he was in any hurry to have children. And he didn’t have any animals as far as she knew.
Then again, she didn’t have pets, either. But that wasn’t her fault. Her apartment didn’t allow them. She just wanted to make sure whatever guy she ended up with loved them. She wanted a dog. Or a cat. She’d never had either. Emma had two dogs, and Jane had a dog. Logan and Des had several dogs on the ranch.
She’d always wanted pets, and had never been allowed to have any.
She shook her head. Back to her list.
Oh, right. Not hanging out at the bar with the guys all night. That answer was self-explanatory, since that was pretty much all Bash did. All the time.
And she had no idea what his idea of a perfect vacation would be, but she highly doubted it involved room service. Bash had an ATV and she knew he was an outdoors kind of guy.
Whereas Chelsea was allergic to everything outdoorsy.
See? They were not compatible in the least. Bash had failed everything on her list.
She closed her notebook and tucked it back in her purse.
Why was she even comparing Bash to her list anyway? It wasn’t like he was remotely in the running. Even if there had been that night she and the girls had come here during the holidays. And maybe she had been a little on the inebriated side, and maybe Bash had whispered something in her ear that even several months later still made her blush hot, and still kept her up at night thinking about— “The perfect drink.”